All In
by Sandrine Shaw
Summary: The dagger comes out easier than she'd have assumed to, like it's the Excalibur to her Arthur and she was meant to free it all along.  Elena/Elijah. Written before "The Last Dance" aired, so it's a bit of an AU version of the scene at the end.


**All In**

by Sandrine Shaw

Time is running out.

They know Klaus is going to come for her soon, and they're not getting anywhere with their plan how to fight him. Bonnie alone isn't strong enough, even with the powers of all the dead witches in the world behind her, and Elena can't hide forever in the boarding house. Nor can she keep anyone else safe this way. Stefan and Damon insist that they have everything under control, that they'll find a way, that they can protect her, but she knows it's only a lie they desperately want to believe in.

Those are desperate times, and they call for desperate measures. That's why Elena is down in the cellar, late at night, crouching next to Elijah's withering body. She's been tiptoeing through the house, barefoot, knowing that the boys' wouldn't approve. It seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago, but down here in the bare, dark room, alone with Elijah's corpse, she's suddenly not so sure anymore.

Then again, things cannot get much worse.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before she takes hold of the dagger and pulls. It comes out easier than she'd have assumed to, like it's the Excalibur to her Arthur and she was meant to free it all along.

And then, she waits. Shivering from dread and cold, she sits down on the dirty floor and watches as Elijah's skin loses the ashen color and his face gradually grows less sunken and dead. It feels like she's waiting for hours when in truth it's probably only a few minutes, and yet she's completely unprepared when his eyes suddenly snap open and fix her with a hard, penetrating stare. Her throat feels paper dry, fear settling uncomfortably in her stomach until she reminds herself that there isn't much he can do to her that's not going to happen anyway.

"I brought you blood," she says, holding out one of the bags the boys keep down here. She's proud that her voice is almost steady.

Elijah sits up, but doesn't make a move to take the offered blood.

"I take it you're here to negotiate another deal." His voice is as cool and dispassionate as ever, as if he hadn't just woken up from the dead. As if she hadn't put him there.

Elena shakes her head. "No negotiation. No deals. I just- I'm asking you. _Please._ Help me. I- I don't want to die."

She swallows and presses on, feeling like she's drowning. "Stefan and Damon think they can stop Klaus, but I know they can't. I don't know what else to do. Help me, please."

She doesn't have any more than this. There's nothing she can offer him in return that he couldn't take anyway, if he wanted to. If her words don't move him, if he doesn't _want_ to save her life, then there's nothing left for her to bargain with. And still, when she considered his reaction before, she thought he would force some sort of concession from her, ask her what was in it for him, or meet her pleas with barely hidden amusement and wonder where the sudden survival instinct comes from.

There's no amusement or derision on his face now, though, he only looks tired and frustrated. When he speaks, his voice is harsher than anything she's ever heard from him before. "If I had a way to kill Klaus without the ritual, don't you think I would already have done it?"

It sparks a glimmer of hope in her that maybe, just maybe, she can get through to him. "Then let's try to find a way. You want Klaus dead as much as we do. Without you, I'm dead. With you on our side, maybe we at least stand a fighting chance."

Elijah's eyes rest heavily on her for a long moment and she feels herself hold her breath, hyper-aware of everything around her: the dirt under her feet, the faint light casting gloomy shadows on Elijah's face, the stale cool air rising goose-bumps on her skin. Elena wraps her arms around herself, shivering.

"All right," he says, finally, tonelessly as ever. The giddiness that comes over her is so strong that she wants to throw herself at him and cry.

He pushes himself up from the floor and adds quietly, "But I'm doing this for you. If your friend Damon, who I assume has no idea that you're here now, cannot keep himself in check, I promise you that I won't show him the same lenience as I did before."

"I'll talk to him. I promise he won't do anything."

He offers Elena his hand and when she takes it, he pulls her to her feet.

"Thank you," she says softly, a little breathless, and impulsively wraps her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

For a moment, he stands stiffly, as if he was barely tolerating the embrace, and she's almost ready to let go and step away when his arms come up around her. "Don't thank me yet, Elena. This may still end with you dead. And me with you."

He's right, of course. Chances are that their truce has ensured his death rather than securing her survival. But still she feels safer, more protected, more hopeful than she has in a long time. Earlier today, they barely had anything to fight Klaus. Now they have Elijah and the dagger. Maybe it won't be enough, but they will put up a hell of a fight before they go out.

She wraps her arms a little tighter around him and lets him hold her.

End.


End file.
